What Can Never Be
by anastasiaxxo
Summary: Takes place after Sylar is thought to be a Petrelli and Claire stops being able to feel pain.Does not follow plotline!Sylar and Peter just fought and Claire is tending to Peter's injuries.I'll try to make everything make sense later!
1. Chapter 1

Okay, okay, I know this won't make a lot of sense. Try to persevere anyway!

Quick outline, from my confused mind to yours. Sylar's a Petrelli (they think), Claire can't feel pain anymore (she fears), and Peter's back from the future where he was the one who Claire tried to shoot, not future Peter. In the show it might've been him, but I'm just pretending that scene happened to past Peter- so yeah, sorry I don't feel like figuring out which one it really was. It's better this way! Trust me! And yeah, this is not following any particular plotline other than those things I pointed out. I am going to try to make my own plot though, so wish me luck on that!

And on to the story!

and the reviews ;)

please? (:

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><p>She pressed the towel to his forehead, where a gruesome red slash cut across. Here was Peter, hurt with no chance of healing. At least not how he used to. But Claire knew he might never heal from the selfishness of his family, and no amount of her blood could help that.<p>

"I'm so sorry." She murmured quietly, without really meaning to speak out loud.

He removed his gaze from the spot on the wall, fixing it to her face which had worry written all over it.

"No, I'm sorry. You really shouldn't be in this family. It's a curse." He told her quietly, knowing he wished she wasn't in his family for more than that one reason in particular.

She just continued cleaning his injuries. Peter noticed how softly she pressed as she tended to him. Even though she could never die she still seemed delicate, and was treating him like he was the same.

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"When I went to the future, you hated me. You killed me."

She dropped her hand, tilting her head at him.

"That's ridiculous. I would never hurt you."

"But I have this feeling, like you might've said something to me before you tried to kill me-the first time. "

The creases on her forehead deepened. "What did I say?"

Peter didn't know why he was telling her this, and was afraid of how she would react.

"You said… that you always loved me."

He wished he could still read minds so he could know what was going on behind her eyes, that were know looking at the floor.

"Of course I love you. You're family." She said it like it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

"I'm not sure that's what you really meant."

Why was he pushing this? What was he trying to prove?

Peter knew what he was trying to prove, that Claire loved him like he loved her.

Which was, how exactly?

He wasn't sure of that part, just that something about her made his heart pump faster. Made his mind conjure up all sort of images he was ashamed of.

"And what if it wasn't?"

She looked up at him again, and he could swear there was a vulnerable look in her eyes.

_I don't know._

"I don't know." He answered.

He watched her head fall, her shoulders rolling in. She looked tired, defeated. Not unlike how he felt.

She finally spoke. "You should rest. "

She stood, holding out her hand to him, wary of the spark she knew she would feel when he took it. She kept her face placid as it coursed through her, a pleasurable shiver rising up her spine. She let him lean on her as they made their way over to his bed. She pulled the sheets back while he climbed in. She could just imagine the cocoon of his warmth it would soon become. She wanted to feel it. She wanted to feel it before she couldn't feel anything at all, which she didn't know how soon would happen.

She turned away when his voice sounded again, surprising her.

"Claire."

She turned back around, noticing how he had scooted over to the other side if the bed. She stared wide eyed as he patted the space beside him.

"Peter-"She said, looking around the apartment. What if someone came in and saw them?

"It's okay." He assured her, his voice quiet and smooth.

Her body betrayed her brain as she stepped towards him. His eyes were twinkling, and he was so gorgeous she suddenly felt like crying. She let out her breath as she settled next to him beneath the covers. She curled up into him; her head nestled in his chest. She held back a relieved sob that threatened to break out of her. Claire felt her hero's lips brush the top of her head and closed her eyes.

_I love you Peter._


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, second chapter! Review and I'll update faster!**

**xoxo**

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><p>Claire was roused from her nap from the sharp rap of knuckles on the door. She looked at Peter who still slept soundly beside her, his arms somehow around her waist. Reluctantly, she got out from underneath the warmth of the covers and walked to the door. Peering through the peephole she saw Matt Parkman. She unslid the lock on the door and swung it open.<p>

"Claire?" He said momentarily confused before continuing with urgency in his voice, "I heard about Peter."

"He's resting," She said as Matt stepped inside." The Haitian showed up and Sylar ran off, the coward." She almost spat that last part.

He suddenly realized how disheveled her hair was and got a curious feeling in his stomach. His gaze wandered around the apartment and stopped at where Peter slept in the bedroom, the sheets a jumble beside him. Claire followed his eyes and when they returned to hers she saw him trying to put the pieces together. She looked away to try and keep him out of her head.

She found herself staring at the kitchen sink. _What a colorful dishtowel._

"Uh, well I'm glad he's ok." Matt said while focusing on Peter. Soon the images of his dreams transferred heads. He watched, feeling uncomfortable as Claire smiled coyly at him and Peter closed the distance between them. He quickly got out, looking back at the teenage girl eyeing him warily. She knew he was suspecting something and kept her mouth shut, fighting the panic rising in her as she shrank under Matt's questioning stare.

"I guess I'll go then. Contact me if anything else happens." Parkman said uneasily, waiting until Claire nodded before rushing out of the apartment.

She stood with her hands clenching the back of a chair for a full minute after the door clicked closed.

_We're doomed._

They were doomed from the very beginning.

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><p>Claire's dress was way too short. Part of him wanted to call it out, and part of him wanted to slide the rest of the fabric up her legs…<p>

It was a white sundress that clung to her tightly until it flared slightly where it ended at her upper thighs.

"What are you staring at?" She asked, a smirk playing on her lips. Her hair reflected the sunlight, shining brightly, her eyes twinkling and threatening to drown him.

He didn't answer, just stepped forward until he could smell the perfume from her neck. It filled his nostrils and he couldn't help wondering if she would taste as good as she smelled. Just as his lips were about to make contact with her neck he shot up in bed.

Claire hurried into the room, worried by the expression on his face.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

He just nodded, unable to speak and unable to keep the blush from reaching his cheeks. How could he dream about doing that to his niece? It was just a… he couldn't find any explanation to comfort himself with, and leaned back against his headboard. He closed his eyes and felt his heart rate slowly return to normal. Peter Petrelli was utterly, completely doomed.


End file.
